


Little Notes

by momopichu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, McCree/Hanzo roommates, Overwatch post-recall, R76SecretSanta2k18, mentions of other overwatch characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momopichu/pseuds/momopichu
Summary: After Talon's downfall, Gabriel gets a job with new-Overwatch. However when Christmas nears, the former merc needs to get across the ocean to be reunited with his husband of one year. Can he survive the horrors of an airport at peak-time and make it back home to Jack?





	Little Notes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oksammich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oksammich/gifts).



> Merry Christmas and I hope you like it ^_^

Gabriel’s just missed his flight out of Zurich.

Somehow, he _needs_ to get onto the next flight or he won’t be spending Christmas with Jack. The former mercenary pelts through the airport in the coat he had hastily borrowed from Torbjörn and skip-runs to the check-in counter where a clerk is waiting.

The woman raises a brow at him but takes in his hassled look with a pursed-lip smile that indicates she’s seen this many times before. With an ease that’s almost envious she catches the passport Gabriel tosses her way and flips it open.

“Alejandro Reyes?” She asks.

 _Of all the fake names Sombra could’ve given him_.

“Yes,” Gabriel replies “I missed my flight to L.A. and I need to get onto the next one. _Please_.” He adds as an afterthought, hoping that his gruff exterior won’t deter her.

He knows how he looks after two weeks of ‘working’ – which was codeword for chasing Lena around the base and making sure Hana didn’t pry out Athena’s upgrades to add to her gaming rig. Don’t get him wrong, he’s grateful to have a job with new-Overwatch after Talon’s downfall and everything. But right now, the wraith’s beard is a mess, probably in desperate need of shaving, and coated with melting snow from the storm raging outside. Stray curls peek out from under the rim of his beanie and Gabriel _knows_ how Torbjörn’s coat looks on his extra-large frame.

The lady gives him a good once over and turns to her computer, manicured nails dancing over the keyboard. It takes seconds worthy of years, but she finally turns back to him with a smile on her face…

And she has a slip of a boarding pass sandwiched between the pages of his passport.

Gabriel gapes, taking the little book back with reverent hands. The card-like pass is gold bordered with the embossed words of ‘First Class’ across the top.  It clearly says his (fake) name below that and no matter how many times the wraith blinks, it does not change.

“Wh-How?” Gabriel stammers.

“It seems your—” she hides a smile under her hand “—husband? Helped you book _and_ paid for your ticket. He must’ve anticipated your delay.” She reaches forward with a pen and circles two things on the card. “Your flight departs at 8.00pm from boarding gate twenty-four. The gates will close half an hour before departure. Should you require help, my colleagues are more than happy to be of assistance. Now, do you have any large baggage to check-in?”

Gabriel is still digesting the fact that _Jack_ got him a seat, and on _first_ _class_ no less. It’s a feat the wraith hadn’t dreamed possible as he’d only told his husband – his _husband_ – only a few hours before that he had missed his original flight. His nerves were shot from the anxiety and the prospect that he might not return home on time, but here he was – a ticket home in a seat made of luxury. His hands are still shaking.

The woman cocks her head, face morphing to give him the ‘are you ok’ look when Gabriel manages to jump back into himself and bundles his duffel bag onto the baggage carousel beside the woman’s desk. She tags it and sends it on its way, her grin is all dimples as she gives him a small wave and a ‘have a nice flight’.

The wraith wavers out a thank you and stumbles away in a daze. It takes another moment before he deems himself ready to wander over to immigration but pauses when a voice calls him back. It’s the check-in woman, and she’s got a new slip of paper in her hand as she runs after him.

“Mr. Reyes! My apologies, it seems your husband has left a message with your booking!”

“A message?” he asks.

She puts a hand over her mouth and Gabriel has a feeling she’s trying to smother a smile under a façade of professional indifference as she hands him the little slip of paper. It reads;

 

_Come home soon. I miss you._

 

Gabriel swallows the lump that had formed in his throat. He thanks the woman again, folds the little slip of paper up and deposits it within the pocket of Torbjörn’s too small jacket, right over his heart.

 

* * *

 

Clearing immigration goes without a hitch; something that surprises Gabriel. He had expected to be stopped and frisked, maybe even have his bag opened. Instead, the guards just nodded and waved the wraith aside once he was pass the metal detector – the device not even making a peep. It’s a huge change from what Gabriel’s used to. Being a black-ops Commander of a global-peacekeeping force and then a mercenary doesn’t exactly have much use for the usual commercial flight protocols.

He grabs his bag and with the hour he has left, decides to make full use of the First-Class lounge. After all, some food and a razor would probably do wonders for his image. And possibly make him fit in better with the suits of the first class.

A little chat with the concierge and Gabriel gets the razor with ease. It’s a little cathartic; the process of shaving. A little bubble within the busy airport that he uses to his full advantage. Without the beanie, his growing hair spills over his eyes like noodles of black and grey. The colour’s not bad – if he says so himself. He combs it out, trims away the excess and does what he can to clean up. It’s not the same as being able to take a shower, but at least he looks more presentable. He squints at the mirror, tilts his head just so so that his hazel gold eyes – with flecks of red – catch the light just right. He hums. Something’s still missing.

Gabriel runs his hand under the tap and brings the water up to slick his hair back. The grey of his hair gleams with the drops, silver under the lamps. He quirks a brow, fidgets so that the man looking back at him in the mirror is a suave motherfucker – he grins. Better. For good measure, he blows a kiss to the mirror and brings his phone up, snapping a photo.

 

_Hey Jack,_

_Received your message. Can’t wait to have you in my arms._

 

It’s not even five seconds later as he’s leaving the bathroom that he receives a reply. Gabriel chuckles when he sees the string of kisses and heart emojis. It’s endearing really, if a little embarrassing.

He’s just re-entering the main lounge area when a waiter approaches him with a silver tray. On it sits an unopened bottle of the good kind of tequila topped with a ribbon shining gold, red and green. Beside it is a half-folded card.

“Mr. Reyes?” The waiter asks.

“That’s me.”

“A present for you.”

This time, the brows that rise on his head have nothing to do with looking good. Gabriel grabs the card, unfolding it with uncertain fingers.

 

_For the flight ;)_

It’s signed _J.F. Morris_ and Gabriel throws his hands up in fond exasperation. Trust Jack to see through his flight anxiety and provide him with alcohol to soothe the nerves. He’s also one-upped Gabriel. Which—

Shit.

Christmas presents.

Gabriel slaps his head with a hand. How could he have forgotten!

“How long do I have?” He says, nearly yells.

The waiter blinks, confused. “Sir?”

“Until my flight – the flight to LA!”

“I-I think there’s still about twenty minutes before you have to b-board sir!”

 _Shit_. Not nearly enough time. Gabriel’s grabbing his bag and running out of the lounge before he has a second to contemplate his actions. At the last second he turns.

“Have my present sent onto my flight, I’ll pick it up there!”

He doesn’t hear the poor waiter’s stammering reply. The wraith’s flying to the Duty Free in search of something, anything, that Jack could possibly like. Brand names streak past his sight, all sorts of products that Gabriel considers and discards with the ease of a Commander skimming through reports for approval. There’s whiskey, rum, perfumes, technology. Damn. So many items on sale and none of the items he thinks Jack might remotely like are going for…how much _did_ he have in his wallet?

He wrenches the small purse open in the middle of an aisle, cursing. Ten Francs. It’s nowhere near enough and he slams the wallet shut. And opens it again.

Here’s hoping the ten francs in his wallet has mated and given birth to another ten francs.

No such luck.

Gabriel swears under his breath and runs his fingers through his just-styled hair. He doesn’t have nearly enough money and he refuses to go home to Jack empty handed. Sure, Jack wouldn’t mind; that silver fox would even give Gabe his best farm-boy smile and say, ‘I’m just glad you’re home’. But that’s not the point!

Time’s running out.

Damn.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. Gabriel pulls out his phone and dials the one number he _knows_ owes him a favour – _several_ favours, in fact. The phone rings for what he swears is a good minute before it’s picked up.

“Goddamn Reyes – wha’ the fa’ man.” McCree’s voice is a sleepy and dishevelled growl through the speaker.

“Good morning to you too McCree,” Gabriel says. “Get up, I need your help.”

“Can’t the big bad Reaper handle his own problems? It’s too early.”

“It’s 11am in LA. Now get up, come on, I _really_ need your help.” He hears the ruffle of sheets and the whine of a mattress. “Attaboy.”

“Quit teasin’ me _jefe_ ,” McCree growls. Another rumble of static, the gunslinger must be rubbing his face. “So what do you want? I thought you were supposed to be on a flight right now?”

“Missed my first one. Jack got me onto the next flight, but I’ve got a little problem…well, not so little, _little_.”

“So…it’s a _big_ problem?” McCree asks. Gabriel can hear the other’s slightly muffled chuckle.

“Sort of.” He inhales hard through his nose. “Look, I’m broke, and I need to get a present for Jack.”

There’s an awkward silence from McCree’s side. Then Gabriel hears the distinctive _pfft_ of withheld laughter before the gunslinger is hooting in mirth. Gabriel grumbles, holding the phone away from his ear.

“The big bad Reaper – Is broke! Ha ha wha’ the hell—”

“Ok, ok, McCree.” Gabriel sighs, bringing the phone back. “Just—Is there anything I can do? Any ideas?”

“Hold on, lemme just – What? Oh mornin’ Han.”

The phone gets muffled. Gabriel thinks he hears exchanged words, the phrases ‘flight’, ‘help’ and ‘money’ but that’s about it. He begins pacing the shop to cull his growing impatience.  A brief glance at his watch tells him he has about less than ten minutes.

“Reyes, y’there?” McCree’s voice calls him to a stop.

“Yeah,” Gabriel replies instantly, rubbing his brow.

“Hanzo asks if you’ve got an online paying app. Like LinePay or GooglePay, stuff like that.”

“People still use GooglePay?”

“Reyes!”

“Yeah, yeah I do. But what has that got to do with anything?”

“Apparently it still works in airports. I figure you can’t get to a computer right now, so I’ll transfer some money onto your account and you can use that to pay. How much do you need?”

“Uh…”

“You don’t know.” It was more of a statement.

“Look,” Gabriel growls. “I didn’t exactly have time to ask Jack for his wishlist, ok? _You_ try getting Winston’s new pet-project to work in under three weeks and see how much free time you get!”

“Alright, alright. No need to get huffy _jefe_ ,” McCree grumbled. There was another shuffle on the line. “Hanzo has some suggestions for you. I’ll hand you over to him while I transfer you some money.”

True to his word, the next thing Gabriel hears is the archer’s smoother tone.

“Reyes?”

“Hanzo. How’s life sharing quarters with the cowboy?”

A laugh. “He is better than Genji.”

“Really?”

“We have worked out some house rules. That aside, McCree said you needed help with Jack’s present?”

“Got any ideas? I’m all ears.”

For a moment there was a hum from Hanzo’s side. “I would recommend something…cuddly.”

“Cuddly?” Gabriel couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.

“ _Two_ cuddly things, actually.” Hanzo coughs. “I cannot give you too much information; just know Jack has prepared something for you at home and your best course of action is…well…”

“Teddy bears. Got it.” Gabriel sighs. “What _is_ Jack getting me?”

Hanzo does not reply but Gabriel does hear McCree’s distant ‘Don’t tell him!’. The former Reaper chuckled; so much for trying to out shine Jack. Christmas _was_ his husband’s favourite holiday.

“It looks like McCree has transferred the money,” Hanzo finally says. “I wish you good luck Reyes.”

“Right, thanks so much – to you both!” as an afterthought, he adds “You’re both welcome to our Christmas dinner…But Jack’s apple pie is mine!”

“We would never take his apple pie from you,” Hanzo declares with a laugh. He hangs up with a brief ‘goodbye’ and McCree’s hollered ‘see you soon’ in the background.

With money in his pocket now and an idea of what to get, Gabriel streaks to the souvenirs department and scours the rows of shelves for a suitable cuddly toy for his husband. It’s a little harder deciding on what to get but he figures Jack must’ve gotten lonely without him around for the past few weeks. So, he settles on the two largest teddy bears he can possibly carry in his arms (and mind you, his arms are big). One has coffee brown fur and a sweater of deep blue with embroidered snowflakes, the other has blonde fur and a nearly identical coat of green and red. He adds a kid’s beanie, a sewing kit, a few shirts in various colours, a packet of ribbons, sew-on skulls and snowflakes to his basket for good measure.

By the time he’s paid and out of the store, the speakers overhead are blaring his name, calling for him to board now – or miss his flight (again). Gabriel runs for his gate as if he had a hoard of bastions on his tail; shopping bags slapping against his back and two oversized teddy bears clinging precariously to his arms.

He makes it just in time.

Security waves him through the boarding gate with large grins on their faces and Gabriel has a sneaking suspicion they’re laughing at the teddy bears sat on each side of his hips. The air hostesses are less composed and a few coo sweetly at the toys as they help him to his seat. Or cabin.

Jack _really_ spared no expenses.

Everything is dyed a soothing beige and white and perfumed with that new car scent. There’s a bed attached to his leather cushioned seat – with an absurd amount of leg space – and a large table with a small holoTV opposite it. Sure enough, Jack’s gift of Tequila sits on the surface; it’s ribbon and card still present, and a crystal cup added to the display.

Gabriel immediately shuts the sliding door of his cabin in favour of the quiet of the little space. He may have a twelve-hour flight ahead of him, but he has a lot of work to do if he wants his present husband-ready by the time he lands. So taking a swig from his tequila, Gabriel Reyes gets to work.

Noises fall away into the background, sunk into the nothingness that prevails when he has his mind focused on a singular task. He doesn’t even notice when the plane takes off, nor when the air hostesses come with a meal for his desperately growling stomach. He is vaguely aware of acknowledging the hostesses and pulling what he thinks is bread into his mouth. But all of it pales in comparison as his world narrows down into tearing and cutting the spare shirts he bought into usable pieces of scrap fabrics and sewing and modifying his newly acquired teddy bears.

The coffee-coloured bear gains a hoodie with skull patches bordering the rim, gloves, and a hood which he carefully sews onto the existing winter coat of the teddy. For the blonde bear, Gabriel crafts a motor jacket to go over the top of its winter coat. A bright ‘76’ is stitched onto the back in typical blue, red, and white, and he ties a bright gold ribbon around the bear’s neck as a final feature. The task takes him a good chunk of his flight time and if asked, Gabriel would be unable to tell when he finished his task and when the hostess came to wake him for breakfast.

He gets up groggy, sandwiched between two oversized bears in his little cot. Pieces of cut fabric are littered about the space and the ribbons might as well have turned into confetti with how they had tied themselves around his seat and in the little space. At least the air hostess was kind enough to just leave him his meal and make herself scarce. If she had asked, Gabriel _really_ wouldn’t have known what to tell her. Maybe a cloth goblin crept into his room and exploded?

He gets up, pushing Soldier-bear, off his chest. Once up, he’s greeted by a little card sat next to his breakfast tray. Gabriel quirks a brow and looks about. Jack’s tequila sits half-finished beside him on the bed, its own little card is thrown beside the bottle. So, this was a... new card? He reached forward, sprawling across the cabin, to grab it.

 

_Counting down the seconds till I see you again._

 

Gabriel flushes a darker shade and buries his face in Soldier-bear. Did Jack plan all of this? The ticket, the cards, the present? What did he do to deserve his husband. Not even married a year after Talon’s downfall and Jack was making Gabriel feel like a teen with his first crush. Butterflies in his stomach, in his head, in the air. _Fuck_ he had it bad.

The wraith flipped onto his back, ignoring the feeling of scrap cloths and ribbons underneath him. He didn’t know how much time he had left before he could see Jack, but he _swore_ that if he had a choice, he’d rather it be _yesterday_. He grabbed the new card and the tequila’s card, bundling both into the pocket of a too-small jacket, right over his heart.

            He can’t wait anymore.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel doesn’t know how he managed to walk from the plane to immigrations. His feet feel itchy, knees shaky as he tries to hold his form instead of disintegrating and ghosting – as fast as it might be. On each hip sits a teddy bear held precariously to his body by arms that barely reach around their soft waists.

They are fully modified to Gabriel’s tastes; one representing himself in a blue hoodie and beanie while the other bared resemblance to his husband’s former alias. A husband he would soon get to see if the lines would only move a little faster!

It takes forever but soon he’s at the counter and presenting his passport with difficulty. The man at the desk quirks a brow and squints. He says nothing as he flips open the passport and checks through the pages, however he keeps an eye on Gabriel, carefully lining the wraith’s face as if he was committing it to memory. Gabriel cannot help himself from squirming under the stare. He hopes desperately that the guard won’t do anything. Hopes really hard.

Finally, the officer stamps something within his passport and reaches forward to hand it back, but pauses when Gabriel reaches to take it, fingers holding firm on the little booklet.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking a question, sir.” He says.

Gabriel resists the urge to swallow. “No, go ahead.” Were his documents wrong? Had he been detected? Had Sombra (somehow) messed up and was he not going to be allowed into the country?

“Well, y’wouldn’t…” the officer narrows his eyes as if he’s puzzling out a problem “y’know…” he waves his hand in the air “happen to be a _hero_ … would you?”

Gabriel couldn’t resist bursting out laughing from the frankly _absurd_ question. His nerves leave in a rush and he shakes his head, taking his passport back from the officer.

“Nah, son.” Gabriel says. “I’m just a married man.”

            And with that, he takes his passport and leaves the befuddled officer staring after him.

 

* * *

 

An omnic at the luggage conveyer belt passes Gabriel a trolley with his duffel bag already waiting.

He nods to them and bundles Reaper and Soldier-bear in as well, arranging them so that the teddies are sat side by side and looking forward. It’s like a dream, the way he passes through to the large sliding doors of the arrival hall. Like the end of Love Actually, when everyone is getting together with who they’re supposed to be and ‘God Only Knows’ is playing in the background. He swears he hears the familiar tune now as he steps through the threshold.

Cold aircon thwaps him in the face and before he knows it, a second force careens into him, broad arms swinging around his neck as a kiss is planted on his cheek.

“Welcome home, Gabe.”

Jack’s voice is a husky rasp by his ear and Gabriel twists so that he can wrap his own arms around the man who’s helped get him here, right on Christmas eve. His husband’s smile is bright, radiant, throwing all else into shadow.

Gabriel kisses those plush snow-bitten lips first, pours his love and relief, all the pent-up emotions of the past few weeks into the little action, while his hands roam – tracing the other man’s back, his shoulders, and up to bury in Jack’s silver white hair. When he can kiss no more – when the breath is all but run out – he breaks from those lips and leans in.

“Got your cards, you sly bastard.” He whispers against scarred pale skin. He kisses Jack’s temple, his hair, his nose. “Love you. Love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Jack hums, burying his face into Gabriel’s shoulder. “Missed you so much.”

For a moment they stand there, wrapped in each other, content to let the world fade around them. The clatter of trolleys, the calls of the overhead speakers. When Gabriel looks around, all he can see are people getting together, hugging loved ones, smiles on their faces and in that split second, he realises, he’s here, he’s _really_ here.

Right in Jack’s arms. In an airport filled to the brim with people coming home.

He’s _home_.

 

* * *

 

(Gabriel’s present from Jack)

They are walking to the carpark when Jack asks, “Are those for me?”

Gabriel looks over to find that his husband’s got that cheeky smile that shows his pearly white and dimples his cheeks. He laughs, ruffling Jack’s hair. The wraith plucks Reaper-bear out of the trolley seat and deposits the large fluffy bear in the other man’s eager arms. It’s worth it to see the silvered man hop around like a toddler with a new toy. Jack even buries his face into the bear’s fur, inhaling deeply and ruffling the beanie atop its head.

“Should I be jealous?” Gabriel asks.

“That depends.” Jack peeks over the top of the bear’s head. “Are you going away again?”

“Nah. I told Winston he can have me as a consultant but that’s it – I’m never going back.”

Jack grins. “Couldn’t keep up with the younger members?”

“Jackie, dear, if we’re going to compete about _‘oldness’_ you know you’ll lose.”

The former soldier grimaces and has his newly acquired teddy bear ‘slap’ Gabriel. The wraith feigns hurt, putting his unused degree in theatre to good use as he fakes blood and death.

“I’m dying! Killed by my own purchase! The betrayal – argh!”

Jack rolls his blue, blue eyes, pulling Gabriel upright again as they near their car. He motions for Gabriel to enter the car first as he puts his duffel bag in the boot.

Gabriel grins and plants a kiss on Jack’s cheek with a brief ‘thanks’, before moving to take shotgun. As he’s about to take a seat, the wraith is instead greeted by a brown envelope.

“Jack?”

“Hmm?” The soldier was putting the two teddies in the back seat – with seat belts.

“What’s with the envelope?”

“Oh that?” Jack tugs at the bear’s seat belt, making sure it was secure. “Why don’t you open it?”

“Jack, I swear to god, if this is some prank…”

Gabriel tears open the envelope, the sheaf of papers within is thick. The wraith pulls them out with narrowed brows, skimming the words printed as if he expected them to contain some hidden secret. However the more he read, the more his eyes widened.

“Jack? Babe, tell me this is—”

Jack was just letting himself into the driver’s seat. He plonked down with a huff, turning with a small smile and a softer “Merry Christmas?”

Gabriel pounces his husband. Throwing himself across the seat to pull Jack into a big hug and a bigger kiss.

“Our applications were approved! Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” Gabriel demanded.

“And ruin the surprise?” Jack laughs. He wraps his arms around the wraith, putting their foreheads against each other. “We’re going to be fathers, Gabe. _Fathers_.”

Gabriel silences the rest of his words with a firm kiss, tongue reaching and teeth nibbling on the puckered skin of Jack’s lips. They still had a long way to go; approval only being the first step. But they were now on the road they should have set off on so long ago. A child, a _family_.

He was never leaving again.

 

...

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to leave McCree and Hanzo's relationship vague as I wasn't sure how my Secret Santa wanted it depicted. I hope it was alright >_<"


End file.
